No Bird Soars Too High If He

Sleep, Sleep, Beauty Bright,dreaming O'er The Joys Of Night.sleep, Sleep: In Thy Sleeplittle Sorrows Sit And Weep.

For I Dance And Drink And Sing, Till Some Blind Hand Shall Brush My Wing. If Thought Is Life And Strength And Breath And The Want Of Thought Is Death Then Am I A Happy Fly If I Live Or If I Die

My Silks And Fine Array, My Smiles And Languished Air, By Love Are Driv'n Away And Mournful Lean Despair Brings Me Yew To Deck My Grave: Such End True Lovers Have.

Father, O Father! What Do We Here In This Land Of Unbelief And Fear?

The Cut Worm Forgives The Plow.